The longest evening.

A certain darkness engulfs his mind. A sound from a different time, a different place.

The temple bells reverberate in the choked lane, fragrance of fresh jasmine incense sticks and dhoop float in the air of the auburn evening.  Few miles away, the silence of a dull room is broken by her honey dew voice,

“Jab hum na honge to piharwa, bolo kya tab aoge?”

Every broken word conjures to form a distance face. She moves around the house, singing “Khamaj” .

Restless, he gets up from his bed and gazes out at the temple by the river. The river dances gracefully, concealing a thousand secrets. A sight of sun dancing in her eyes, wind in her hair, a smile concealed her tears, a mystery, a story. Did he not know that she was trying to capture their brief affair in her eyes, forever, begging of him to stay.

What was it, he thought, that had made forgetting impossible? He had left the city behind, the memories of rainy evenings in this room, the nights spent inhaling the fresh fragrance of her porcelain skin, his hand in hers, their lips, the sweat trickling down his brows, the smell of their bodies and heart mingled together, tears, separation, a song, her voice.

“Come back, will you? Please?”

Regrets, the sound of mud being squelched underneath his feet, becoming distant with every passing minute. She had waited. A forever swallowed in his silence.

The sun turns blood red, gradually. Thereafter, nothing remains but darkness.